


oh, you wondrous creature (coming up who we are)

by sass_quatch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Slytherin!Sirius Black, Then again, all my characters are assholes, at least im not afraid to admit it, no beta we die like men, so am I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-01-12 15:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sass_quatch/pseuds/sass_quatch
Summary: Sirius Black could have gotten Sorted into Gryffindor. He could have made friends with Mudbloods and Blood Traitors and left his family far behind.He could have done it, but Sirius was raised a Black, and all Blacks know that winning the battle doesn't always do much for the war. Sirius is playing the long game, the same one that his parents have been playing for years... but he's playing by his own rules and on different terms and he is going to win.





	1. A Gryffindor in Green and Silver

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the dialogue from the train scene belongs to JKR. I just borrowed it, just like I'm borrowing her characters. Title comes from Florence + The Machine's Too Much Is Never Enough.

On the day that he's set to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Sirius Orion Black receives a letter. The sun isn't yet in the sky, the grey light of dawn only just peeking over the horizon, and still, Sirius is awake and alert. This is the only time when these sorts of missives have a chance of finding their way to him without going through paranoid Pureblooded hands, and suspicious House Elf scrutiny. The owl is small and tired, as it usually is after traversing such a long distance, but it lets Sirius scratch its head with gentle, fond familiarity. 

Message delivered, the little owl hoots near silently, audible enough to merit a hissed shushing, and it takes to the skies shortly after. A candle is lit, the letter taken to Sirius' desk, and he settles. He reads and rereads until the ink is smudged anew and the parchment wears thin.

 _Slytherin is not what you think it is, cousin_ , it reads, between details of a new life, one where her days are full of delight and sunshine and love, and Sirius wants the words to become ash beneath his fingertips. _I love my Aunt and Uncle dearly, but they have forgotten our values and instilled nothing but fear into you and darling Regulus. I know that you are driven by your heart, but when you make your choice today, please, remember that Slytherin means loyalty to you and yours, and that your dreams are your own. Hold fast to your ideals, and our House will teach you the skills you need to make them a reality. Slytherin will see you on your way to success...and far, far away from our family. For now,_ it says,  _until the day you may make your choices free of judgement and you no longer have to fear as I did, Slytherin means safety._

The letter is signed Andromeda Tonks, and beneath the relief that one of the few cousins he likes is safe and happy, he wants to be furious. He's told her how he wants to get away from this nonsense about blood purity and his awful, perfectionist mother and his overbearing, cruel father, and still, she wants to send him into a pit of venomous snakes who are supposed to be _just like them_. 

The anger coils at the back of his throat, and then, his eyes skim the page one last time, and it dissolves into nothingness, drops back into the pit of his stomach as he remembers that this is _Andy_ , who went into Hogwarts terrified and bearing the weight of the Black name on her shoulders, and emerged to be married to a man she loves--to a man she _chose_ \--and with freedom to be happy in a way she could never have been before. The words pop out at him, loyalty, and freedom and safety, and he reads between the lines, where she has written hope, and encouragement and control over his destiny. 

By the time Regulus comes to knock at the door, to hug him for the fifth time before Sirius is gone, the sun is in the sky and Sirius is sitting on his trunk and thinking about that damned letter.

He should burn it. 

By the time they've arrived at the station, and Walburga's nails are digging into his left shoulder and Orion's grip is a vice around his right arm, Sirius is standing as straight as he can manage without snapping his own spine and walking on his toes and still thinking about that damned letter.

Andy was _happy_ , and _free_ , and there was no Black name hanging over her head, and no expectations to be met. 

By the time Regulus' arms wrap gently around his waist and Sirius realises that his brother is shaking in his grip and flinching when his fingertips ghost too hard over his shoulderblades, Sirius is _still_ thinking about that thrice damned _letter_.

They had an Heir right here, one who was well versed in nearly all subjects put before him, and much better at the confinement and social graces than Sirius could ever be. 

Regulus chokes a silent, almost imperceptible sob into Sirius' shirt, and then, they are separated, Sirius wandering onto Platform 9 and 3/4, and then onto the Hogwarts Express and then, he's in a compartment _still_   _thinking about that letter_.

He's aware that Narcissa has a compartment further down, no doubt full of the people who he should be trying to play nice with and entertain even though most of them would trip over themselves to truly cement an alliance with the Ancient and Noble House of Black. He'd walked right past it. 

Merlin, what is he thinking? He can't leave Regulus all alone. Mother and Father would eat him alive. Regulus would end up paying for his mistakes, and then Sirius would be a traitor to the family  _and_  a terrible brother. 

Another student ducks into the compartment, grinning to himself. "Hullo," he says, and the grin doesn't like it could be peeled off his face for anything. "Room for one more?" 

Sirius shrugs. The boy makes himself comfortable and flops back into a seat, dragging a hand through hair that looked like it'd gotten into a fight with a bottle of Sleekeazy's and won. It's messy, and it stands on end and it's pitch black. The boy himself is a few shades darker than Sirius, dark enough that it's obvious that he either isn't one hundred percent English, or he spent a _lot_ of time in the sun. Oddly enough, he seems almost...familiar. 

"I'm James, by the way. James Potter," he says and ah, there it is. Son of Fleamont Potter and Euphemia Potter, descended from great-aunt Dorea Black who married one Charlus Potter. He can hear his mother warning him about the boy in one ear, hissing about cavorting with Blood Traitors and Muggle-lovers, and his father on the other, going on and on about potential allies and networking and connections. 

"Sirius Black," he introduces himself, and leaves it at that. There. Indifference is dangerous, but now he has time to think about how to move forward without seeming rude. Good enough. 

He answers James idly, eyes playing about the small room but never straying too far from the door, and soon enough, two other First Years walk in, one already dressed in school robes. Sirius can multitask well enough, so he keeps half his attention on James, and the other half goes to the very obviously not-Pureblooded duo. A boy and a girl. One raven-haired and the other, a redhead. The girl seems upset about something, and the boy tries to cheer her up, and what do you know? It actually works.

They're both less upset now, but Sirius is more interested in the tense set of the boy's shoulders that hasn't gone away, more interested in the wary way his gaze sweeps the small compartment. His back is ramrod straight, somewhere between fear and pride and perhaps even pain, if Sirius is correct. 

And he likes to think that he is, because that is exactly the way he sits and stares after Walburga and Orion have taken him to task for whatever meaningless and petty infraction he committed. There's a look in his eyes reminds Sirius of Regulus as well, and that does not sit well with him at all. 

The conversation has turned inevitably to Houses, as it's impossible to speak about Hogwarts and not of the Houses, and Sirius, who hasn't replied to James once in the last five minutes, finally puts his two cents in. 

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," he says, and he does not smile. 

"Blimey, and I thought you seemed all right!" James laughs it off, but Sirius has been made to study Occlumency for a good portion of his life--even if he isn't all that good--and he's been people-watching even longer. A Slytherin family cannot be a good family, and the way James' nose wrinkles shows that this is exactly what he's thinking. 

"Maybe I'll break the tradition," Sirius says, and still, he does not smile. He does not want to think of what the repercussions of that will be. He banishes the thought of Regulus clinging to him and trembling, and casts the spotlight on James. "Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?" 

James lifts an invisible sword, jabbing it in no particular direction. The other boy flinches slightly, just enough for Sirius to notice the movement in the corner of his eye. Neither of the others notice, and Sirius doesn't let it show that he has. The boy makes a small, disparaging noise as James claims he'll be in Gryffindor, just like his father. 

"Got a problem with that?" James demands, turning on him.

"No," he says, though he is sneering slightly. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy-" 

Sirius can see James is gearing up to say something and he swiftly intervenes. He wants to know more about this boy who still reminds him of Regulus, but has something in him that makes Sirius see himself as well. He also has no desire to pick a fight with someone he barely knows; he already has enough on his plate with the Sorting being just around the corner. "I don't think brawn has all that much to do with it, actually. My cousin Andy's a twig _and_ a Slytherin and she's as brave at heart as they come, if you ask me." 

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask. No slimy, Death Eater snake could ever be brave," James insists, and now his nose is wrinkled again, and his brow is furrowed and if he crosses his arms just so, he'll look like just like Bellatrix does right before she pitches a fit. 

"Yes, they can," the boy says. "My mum was a Slytherin and she's _definitely_ brave." 

"Yeah, well, you're _definitely_ wrong, both of you," James scowls, and then, he's leaving. 

Offending a Potter really isn't that big of a deal, what with them being Blood Traitors and whatnot, and his parents might even be proud of him for it. Sirius doesn't care what his parents think. Not anymore. 

"So, your mum was in Slytherin?" Sirius asks, because he _knows_ that neither of these children are Purebloods. Halfblood, maybe? 

"She was, yeah. She told me about all the Houses, but she talked about Slytherin, mostly. Said that's where I'd be going if I didn't end up in Ravenclaw."

"And what about you?" Sirius asks the girl. 

"Oh, um. My parents are Muggles. They didn't come to Hogwarts," she says, and Sirius gets to feel smug about being right. Or, he would, if he couldn't see the nervousness underlying both their expressions. 

"That's fine," he says, and they both perk up. He watches the girl smile and nudge her friend, whose spine finally loses its ramrod straightness as he relaxes--even if only by a slight margin. "Well, to most, anyway. There are some families that are really annoying about blood purity, but like I said, most don't really care. If you're magic, you're magic and being Pureblooded or not really doesn't make much of a difference. Or, at least, that's my take on it." 

"Wow, thanks," says the girl, smiling, "I was really nervous about that, but if it's only a few families, that's fine." 

"Which families?" the boy asks, though the girl looks like she's ready to drop the subject. 

"Well, there's the Sacred Twenty-Eight, though, I suppose the Weasleys wouldn't count. They've been supporting Muggles forever. But that aside, there's the Abbotts, the Averys, the Blacks, the Bulstrodes, the Burkes, the Carrows, the Crouches, the Fawleys, the Flints, the Gaunts, the Greengrasses, the Lestranges, the Longbottoms, the Macmillans, the Malfoys, the Notts--" Sirius pauses to take a breath "--the Ollivanders, the Parkinsons, Prewetts, the Rosiers, the Rowles, the Selwyns, the Shacklebolts, the Slughorns, the Shafiqs, the Travers and the Yaxleys. And like I said, the Weasleys are there, too, but they hate it."

There's silence for a little bit, and Sirius thinks he can see the gears turning in the boy's heads. He also thinks he can see when it clicks. 

"You're one of them, aren't you?" the boy asks, and the girl elbows him in the ribs. It has to hurt, because even though he's already changed into his school robes, Sirius can tell he's rail thin. He doesn't say anything, though, just winces and continues to eye Sirius warily. 

"Sev!" she hisses. 

"Nah, he's right. I'm Sirius Black, at your service. But I don't want to be like my family. Their ideals are dumb, and they all suck, anyway. Well, except for Andy. And Reg. And maybe Cissa. The rest of them, though? Awful. I'm going to get out if it's the last thing I do," Sirius declares. 

The boy looks him up and down, frowning, and then, he leans forward with his hand outstretched. 

"Severus Snape." 

Sirius grins and shakes his hand with all the fervour of an eleven-year-old sticking it to the man. "Nice to meet you, Severus. And the lovely lady is?" 

The redhead stretches out her own hand after Sirius lets go of Severus' and her grip is sure. She shakes it firmly and now, she's wearing her own grin. "Lily Evans. Pleasure to meet you." 

"And you as well," Sirius says, and he means it. They seem nice enough, they don't subscribe to the notion of blood purity bullshit and his friendship with them might send Walburga Black to an early grave. An all-around success. 

The rest of the trip is filled with idle, if still entertaining chatter. Sirius finds out that, yes, Severus _is_ a Halfblood, Muggle-raised, and his mother is Eileen Prince, a fact which he raised an eyebrow at and files away for later. He also finds out that Severus is very, very smart, and he has an absolutely wicked sense of humour that aligns almost dangerously well with Sirius' own. 

He learns that Lily is as quick-witted as either of them, though not nearly as sharp-tongued, and then, the conversation is derailed when she mentions an accident involving her sister, Petunia, a fork and something called an "electrical outlet" and the remainder of the journey--right up until they reach Hogwarts' doors and Professor McGonagall addresses them--is spent educating Sirius on the Muggle world. He's utterly captivated. 

Then, the Sorting begins and his name is right near the top of the list, and he's fairly certain he's shaking through the entirety of the Hat's song. He's definitely sure he's shaking when Severus shoots him a questioning look that he has no time to respond to because McGonagall is calling his name and then, he's under the Hat. 

_My, my, my, what have we here? Possibly the most interesting Black since those cousins of yours. Delightfully complex minds they'd had, if a bit disturbing, in one case._

_Bellatrix's, I bet,_ Sirius thinks at the Hat, and he decides that if he wasn't used to people rummaging around in his head on the regular under the guise of "training", this might have been very uncomfortable. 

_That'd be the one. But, she's not the one being Sorted, now, is she? No, now... let's see here... a Black with boldness, not at all uncommon, but you seem to have it in droves, hmm. And well, well, well. You're a rebellious one, aren't you. Hufflepuff wouldn't do any good, no, you're the type to work smart, not hard, and well, I know that we both agree that you're no Ravenclaw. The creativity and the wit's there, alright, but you aren't about to go learning for learning's sake, no, not at all... Hm. A good ol' case of nature vs. nurture, you are. This is a mind prepped for Slytherin politics and warfare, but it's also the most blatant rejection of those I've seen since my last set of Gryffindors. You also clearly don't seem to like your parents much, hm, and sending you to Gryffindor would be the ultimate kick in the arse, wouldn't you say?_

The Hat shifts on Sirius' head, and he feels it open its brim, and then, a most peculiar thing happens.

"G-" it starts, and then, it shuts its mouth and starts sifting rapidly through his mind. 

The memory Sirius hastily shoved to the front of his mind is recent. Both his parents in his father's study, his mother crowing about about Muggle societies and how it would be so easy to infiltrate them and tear them down from the inside. Their lives are backward, they're uncultured, she'd said. Worthless beings who could barely tell their arses from their elbows, she'd said. Sirius had stood outside the door for the entire conversation, watched the House Elves pop in and out with trays of food, listened to them talk and talk and talk. "A good Black practises patience, Siri. It's always so much more worth it in the end, especially when they think they've won. Patience is the name of the game, Siri," she'd said. 

_So. You want to win. I see. And you're already putting things in place for a delightful kick in the arse for your folks, all on your own. Hm. And you're opportunistic... well. Alright, you've been awful quiet, and everybody gets to make their choice before I send them off. What say you, young Black? Gryffindor... or Slytherin?_

Sirius sits under the Hat and he thinks about a letter received at dawn, written in delicate, sharp cursive, the feeling of trembling hands about his waist, a Muggle-raised Halfblood with a pin-straight spine who flinched at sudden movements. He thinks about the look on his parents' faces when they find out he's friends with a Muggle-born, thinks about Bellatrix and how much he _hates_ her. He thinks about Cissa, finding out about her arranged marriage to Lucius and carefully drawing herself up to go play the pretty politician in a snake pit. He thinks about James Potter claiming Gryffindor chivalry and bravery and then ignoring them both in favour of prejudice and hearsay.

 _Slytherin_ , he tells the Hat. 

_Hm, interesting choice. Are you certain? Gryffindor could be good for you; it'd let you nurture that protective nature of yours, turn it onto a few more deserving folk... and you Blacks always needed to be a but more chivalrous._

_Put me in Slytherin,_ Sirius thinks vehemently, _or I'll set you on fire._

The Hat seems... disappointed, somehow, but it still shouts, "SLYTHERIN!"

While the Gryffindors hiss, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs join the Slytherins in polite applause. Narcissa wears a small smile, cool but genuine, and Sirius smiles back and takes a seat at the empty space at Lucius' other side. The Prefect pats him on the back and the three return their attention to the Sorting. 

It's slow going, and Sirius watches the Hat send Lily off to Gryffindor, applauds and ignores Lucius when the hand on his shoulder starts to apply pressure. Narcissa is giving him a Look, but he simply meets her eyes and then turns away. Lily is joined by Remus Lupin, who sits under the Hat for a while before it decides, Mary MacDonald, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, Peter Pettigrew, who seems... a bit terrified, if Sirius is being honest, and James Potter, who is sent to Gryffindor before the Hat can touch his head. The girls swarm Lily, who is completely ignoring James' heart-eyes in favour of answering questions and making introductions. Once he realises she isn't paying attention, James turns his attentions to Pettigrew, who hasn't stopped staring at him since he'd sat down and tries to draw Remus into a conversation. 

Evan Rosier gets Sorted into Slytherin and Sirius starts paying attention to the Hat again, because it's almost time for his other new friend to be Sorted. Severus sits under the Hat for a while, probably weighing Ravenclaw and Slytherin against each other, and Sirius thinks that it wouldn't be so bad if Severus were Sorted into Ravenclaw before he thinks about maintaining a friendship between three separate Houses and changes his mind. He narrows his eyes at the Hat. Severus _has_ to be a Slytherin. 

"SLYTHERIN!" the Hat cries, and Sirius is applauding again, to the confusion of both his cousin and his bethrothed. 

He slides into place next to Sirius, which was occupied by a Third Year that scooted away as soon as Narcissa Looked at him. 

"Well?" Sirius asks, after Lucius has curiously welcomed Severus to the table, smiling at him over Sirius' shoulder. Narcissa nods at him as well, and Severus nods back. 

"I want to set that stupid Hat on fire," he says to Sirius as soon as the niceties are out of the way. 

"What?" Sirius asks. "I mean, so do I, but what did it say to you?" 

Severus sighs. "First, it was trying to decide between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, then, it tried to put me in Gryffindor, because Lily and also because apparently I have "latent bravery" that would be "wasted" on a Slytherin, _then_ I asked it what it was trying to do because it started talking about how Gryffindor could be good for me, and how my loyalty could be put to good use there and how I could become a better person, and then I started arguing with it because it's _clearly_  biased and also, _rude_ , and that's when it told me that loyalty is also a Hufflepuff trait and threatened to put me there. Which is fine, except I would probably make a terrible Hufflepuff. Why do _you_ want to set the Hat on fire?" 

Sirius blinks. "Okay. Wow. First of all, you're right, it does seem biased, and second of all, it insulted my family. Like, I mean, I might not like them all that much, but the ones I do like are perfectly deserving of whatever I choose to give them. And Blacks need to be more chivalrous, it said. If being chivalrous means acting like James Potter, then I'm fine where I am, thank you very much."

They're quiet for a minute while the last few children are Sorted, before Sirius pipes up again. 

" _Are_ we going to set the Hat on fire?" 

Severus looks like he's thinking about it, before he shrugs. "I mean, we probably shouldn't. It's one of the oldest magical artefacts left in Britain and also, very valuable to the school. Plus, it's sentient enough to have a wrong opinion, so who's to say it can't feel pain?" 

"Okay. Yes. But. We don't have to _burn_ it. Just set it on fire. I'm sure one of the teachers would put it out, anyway." Sirius gestures to the High Table which is indeed full of teachers. 

"True. How should we do it?" 

"Fiendfyre, maybe?" Sirius asks, ignoring the bemused looks Narcissa and Lucius have levelled at them, no longer bothering to pretend to ignore their conversation. 

"Be sensible. We're trying to light one Hat on fire, not burn down the school." 

"Knock over one of the candles?" suggests a voice, and both wizards look up at Evan Rosier seated across from them. "It tried to put me in Hufflepuff, too," he says, shrugging when they both stare at him incredulously. 

"I think they're charmed not to tip over. And they don't drop hot wax, either," Severus says, studying the candles. 

"I guess we could--" Sirius begins, but then the Headmaster is getting up to address them, and he quiets. 

"A marvelous evening and a warm welcome to all our newcomers, and the same to all those returning! As usual, it is a pleasure to have you. You are here to learn to learn about magic, and how to use it wisely for the benefits of yourself and others," Dumbledore doesn't gesture much while he speaks, instead leaving his hands tucked behind his beard. His grin, however, is as blinding as his robes. "We have a few announcements, but, before that, kindly allow me to introduce our new teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts, Professor Erza Evergreen." 

A woman, slender and graceful, stands at the High Table. She waves once, and her hair, dark brown and cut short at the back and sides, falls away from her face as she tosses her head. A muted gasp runs through the Great Hall as it reveals a jagged, silvery scar running over her eye and across her cheekbone. It turns into chatter as soon as she retakes her seat and gestures for Dumbledore to get on with it. 

"Settle down, settle down," he says, and the Hall hushes once more, "Now, announcements: all those expecting to try out for the Quidditch teams must speak to their team captain and you will both report to your Head of House. Recall that only Second Years and above are allowed to try out for the teams and participate in games. The Forbidden Forest is named thusly, as it is just that. _Forbidden_. Now, that should be all. I shall leave you with a few words: Pum wisk ug zo foch, vupp poaxal, yeuck serdiols, pi Pum whepo zaxat ug tuln yeep whoaxalts te zo Ridd. Eat up!"

There's complete silence for a few seconds as food appears on the tables, broken only by a not-so-quiet "The fuck?" from across the room. 

The chatter starts up again, students introducing themselves and catching up with their classmates over plates piled high with roast beef and dinner rolls, pitchers of water and pumpkin juice, self-filling goblets and little trays of wrapped sweets between. 

"Is he--a bit mad?" Severus asks, eyebrows furrowed. "He seems like he might be mad." 

Sirius scoffs. "He's one of the most powerful wizards to exist, ever, in more ways than one. He holds a ridiculous amount of offices and he defeated Gellert Grindlewald." 

"Okay, and?" Severus does not look convinced. 

"And he's probably barking mad, yeah," Sirius grins. 

Sirius continues to grin all the way down to the Common Room, pausing only long enough to scowl at the password which is way too similar to his family motto. Purity above all, his foot. He's probably way too happy, but all things considered, he deserves it. He grins when he falls into bed that night, and it doesn't go away as he lies thinking. He's got friends, he's got a plan and he's going to get this to work. 

Sirius is a Gryffindor at heart, but his tie is green and silver and his blood runs Black. He has seven years to make this work, seven years to get him and Regulus out of that House. Seven years to grind the Black name into the dirt and maybe, just maybe, turn it into something he can be proud of. 


	2. A Year in Review

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius' First Year is... it's--well, it sure is _something_. Lily forgets she's a witch and punches James in the face. Severus picks up an alarming number of hexes from people that keep trying to jump him, uses all of them, gets really upset, gives Lucius Malfoy a black eye and _gets away with it_. It doesn't happen necessarily in that order, but it still _happens_ , and Sirius is shook.

Sirius is angry. Infuriated, pissed off, bloody enraged. He is Not Happy. Three days. They've been at Hogwarts for a sum total of _three days_ and Severus is already up in the Hospital Wing with his goddamn knees backward while Sirius is stuck in History of Magic with the Ravenclaws and therefore, not getting revenge. He contemplates banging his head against his desk, but he decides against it when he realises that he kind of needs brain cells. He groans, and lets his face fall onto his crossed arms, and then he groans again. He sits up, tries to direct his anger into taking notes and only succeeds in glaring at his parchment. 

Beside him, Evan snorts lightly at his dramatics and takes away the quill Sirius is in danger of snapping. "Relax," he says. "We can meet up with Red later and hex Potter and his goons into next week." 

Sirius groans louder. They'd been trying to do just that since dinner the day before, but no such luck. The bastard was as slippery as his father's damn hair potion. Sirius was forced to have his breakfast with only Evan for company besides the other Slytherins--who are more a pack of bigoted, bloodthirsty sycophants than anything else--and it was not a pleasant experience. Evan is marginally better, if only because they'd spent most of the day before trying to train him out of it while coming up with more plans to set the Hat on fire. He still won't refer to Lily by name, but Red is better than Mudblood, any day. It's progress. They'll get there. Eventually. Even if it's only because he's trying to suck up to Sirius and get in the Black family's good books. 

That might not be the case, though, because Evan seems to genuinely like him and Severus well enough. Sirius isn't exactly sure why Evan doesn't like Lily, but he's held off on the insults and the name-calling and the sarcastic commentary when it comes to her, so it isn't really a pressing matter at the moment. What's pressing is that no one has sent an owl to his mother yet. 

Ugh. Even _thinking_ about his parents gives Sirius a bad taste in his mouth. They'd sent a letter--not a Howler, which is what Sirius would absolutely have gotten if he'd gone and let the Hat Sort him Gryffindor--and they went on about how proud they were that their Heir is a Slytherin, because all Good Blacks are Slytherins and how they hope he'll make them proud. Not bloody likely. Sirius reconsiders banging his head against his desk. He'll lose the brain cells anyway if he reads another letter like that one. Another groan, and then Binns finally dismisses them. 

It's lunchtime. They could go to the Great Hall, or they could go hunting. They choose to go hunting, which they don't actually need to do, because they find Lily and James Potter squaring off in one of the corridors leading to the entrance to the Hall. He's smirking at her, and Sirius is about to go hex it off his face, only to stop in his tracks and start cackling, because Lily Evans, already showing promise at being the brightest witch of her age, drops her wand and puts her entire body into throwing a punch right at Potter's face. His glasses crack right down the middle, along with his nose, and when Lily draws her hand back, there's blood on her knuckles. Sirius is sure that the majority of it isn't hers.

Evan is laughing too, and by the time Lily picks up her wand and her books, straightens her robes and comes over to them, he's started applauding. "Nicely done, Red," he says. Sirius will offer his compliments when he can breathe again. 

Lily's grin is sharp and toothy, and Sirius can see her eyes glinting. "Thanks," she says. "Been waiting to do that since yesterday." Then, she clears her throat, shakes her head, fiery locks of hair waving at her shoulders, and her features soften. She admires her bloodied knuckles for a moment, and after looking at a sputtering James Potter being helped by a Peter Pettigrew who keeps sending poisonous looks their way and a Remus Lupin who is gently pressing a handkerchief into James' hand, she grins again and turns to the pair of Slytherins. "Hospital Wing, boys?" 

During the trip up the stairs, Sirius does indeed compliment Lily on her effective way of shutting Potter up, and notices that the blood on her hands is the same colour as the hair she piles atop her head in messy bun. 

They open the doors to the Hospital Wing, and Madam Pomfrey greets them. If she's surprised to see a Gryffindor in Slytherin company, she doesn't show it. 

"What can I do for you three?" she asks briskly. 

Lily blows her knuckles, keeping eye contact with the Matron, and then shows them to her. "I punched a berk. Finally got him after Herbology and split my knuckles. Also, we'd like to visit Severus, please." 

Madam Pomfrey's lips briefly twitch into a smile, and then she asks, "This berk was Mr. Potter, I presume?" even as she performs a healing charm on Lily's hand and the skin neatly knits itself back together, with no scarring to be seen. 

"That'd be the berk, ma'am. Thank you." Lily nods. 

"You're quite welcome, Miss Evans. Now, you said you came to see Mr. Snape?" At the three nods she receives, she gestures for them to follow. "Come on, then." 

Sirius follows, looking around curiously. He figures he'll see it often enough before he graduates. It's homey, he supposes, for an infirmary. There are flowers on bedside tables and large windows to let in sunlight. Definitely a lot more welcoming than Twelve Grimmauld Place. 

Severus is set up in a bed off to the left, reading through one of his textbooks. He looks up when he hears them approaching, looking surprised for a moment before closing his book and turning in the bed to set his feet on the floor. His knees are the right way around again, though, and Sirius is glad for that. 

Lily's grin is back in full force, and Severus eyes her suspiciously. "You seem proud of yourself. What did you do? What did she do?" he asks when he notices Evan and Sirius. "Did someone get set on fire?" 

"No! And that was only one time. Twice. Maybe three times, and it wasn't on purpose," she says, and she drops onto the bed to sit next to him. 

"Wasn't it?" Severus deadpans, and now, Sirius wants to know about the maybe three times Lily Evans set someone on fire. 

"No," she lies, and Sirius can tell because the smile on her face radiates the kind of cherubic innocence that is actually not innocent in the slightest. 

"Of course it wasn't. What happened?" 

"I punched Potter in the face and it was great." 

"It absolutely was," Sirius says. 

"A vision, really. I was honoured to witness it," Evan chimes in. "I don't think I've laughed that hard before in my life." 

"Sorry I missed it." 

"No worries. I'm sure there'll be other chances in the future. I can't see him growing up any time soon," Lily says, wrinkling her nose. 

Severus looks like he's about to say something when the sound of shouting comes from the entrance to the Hospital Wing. It goes on for a minute, then quiets. Madam Pomfrey walks in, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Miss Evans." 

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey?" Lily asks, with that same expression of cherubic innocence. 

"Exactly how hard do you think you hit Mr. Potter?" 

"As hard as he deserved, ma'am." 

"Miss Evans," Madam Pomfrey says, eyes closed, still pinching the bridge of her nose. "Miss Evans." 

"Yes, ma'am?" 

"Miss Evans." 

"Ma'am." Lily looks concerned now, and a quick glance at everyone else proves that she isn't the only one. 

"Mr. Potter currently has a broken nose and a severe concussion. You could have seriously hurt him."

"I'm sorry," Lily says, immediately biting her lip. "I never meant to hurt him that badly."

"I know, Miss Evans, but the next time you decide to punish his misdeeds personally instead of taking it to a Prefect, a teacher or the Headmaster, please. Please, just hex him," Madam Pomfrey sounds exhausted and Sirius isn't sure how much of it is from doing the actual healing and how much is from the whining he can still hear from the entrance. 

"Yes, ma'am." Lily nods, gravely. 

"Thank you," Madam Pomfrey says, and then she clears her throat. "Alright, Mr. Snape. You're free to go. I would suggest you allow one of your friends to help you downstairs until your legs are working perfectly well again. Not until you can manage on your own, until they work _perfectly_ , am I clear?" 

"As crystal, ma'am." 

"Good, now, go on. Off with you. There is still a half an hour of lunch remaining, and half the battle of staying away from my Hospital Wing is remembering to eat regularly and on time." 

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." 

"You're quite welcome," she says, "Now, off you go." 

Severus gets up on shaky legs, and immediately, they give out from under him. He falls back onto the bed, and the only thing he can think about is a scene from a Muggle movie he'd watched once, in secret. Severus looks very much like Bambi after attempting to walk on ice, right down to the slightly stunned and very tired expression. "Betrayed by my own legs," he says. 

Sirius almost starts laughing way too hard, and covers it up by slinging an arm around his shoulders and tugging him up. He does not miss the way Severus' tenses up under his arm. This time, they both almost hit the floor. Severus doesn't weigh very much, but he does accidentally--Sirius hopes it was an accident, anyway--kick Sirius in the shin. "Ow," he says. 

"Sorry," Severus grimaces.

Lily and Evan are making absolutely no effort to muffle their laughing whatsoever, and Sirius glares at them. They've stopped scrambling now, which is good, but they haven't tried moving yet. "Wait, okay, hang on a minute," Lily says in between giggles. Then, she balances all her books in the crook of her elbow and threads her right arm through Severus'. "Let's try this again." 

The step they take is wobbly on all three accounts, and Evan is shaking his head at them and still very much not muffling his laughter, but it's still a step and Sirius is going to call that a win. They try to time their steps so that their feet fall at the same time, which helps. 

As they walk out the of the Hospital Wing like some strange six-legged monster, with Evan helpfully having taken Sirius' and Severus' books--but not Lily's--Potter gapes at them. Pettigrew is still shooting them venomous looks. Lupin seems to be faintly amused, though the expression falls away when Potter looks at him instead. 

The trip down to the Great Hall is mostly uneventful, aside from one time they all very nearly trip off a platform into thin air because a staircase disappeared before they could get on. In fact, the next few days are mostly uneventful, until Sirius gets the Howler. 

It drops onto his plate, coming from a familiar eagle owl. An imposing, impassive thing that pecks when not given a treat after deliveries. Sirius hastily gives it a piece of his bacon. It pecks him anyway. He looks at it, dreads opening it and then he does it anyway. 

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK," the Howler spits in Walburga Black's voice. "WHY AM I HEARING ABOUT YOU RUNNING ABOUT WITH A MUDBLOOD? ARE YOU TRYING TO SHAME YOUR FAMILY NAME? ARE YOU TRYING TO DISRESPECT ME? HOW _DARE_ YOU, YOU UNGRATEFUL, USELESS WHELP! WE CLOTHE YOU, FEED YOU, CARE FOR YOU AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US? BY FRATERNISING WITH THOSE OF INFERIOR STANDING AND BLOOD? I WILL NOT ACCEPT IT! SEE THAT YOU RECTIFY YOUR MISTAKES AT ONCE!" 

It bursts into the flame characteristic of Howlers, and while everyone else in the Hall looks intrigued by its message and starts chattering immediately, Sirius just rolls his eyes. 

"Is that normal?" Severus asks him, looking at the small ash pile that has fallen into his eggs. He pokes it with his fork, and then gives up on eating and pours himself some tea. 

"For my mother, yeah," Sirius has not lost his air of complete disinterest in the Howler as he continues eating his breakfast, ash and all. "She used to send them to me when I actually lived in the same house as her. Lost its novelty around the time she started doing it while sending me to bed without supper. Or lunch." 

"Okay, then." 

"Who told her?" Evan asks. "I haven't said anything to anyone." 

"Potter, maybe?" Severus asks, and it doesn't seem all that farfetched. James does look smug at the Gryffindor Table, but it's not proud of himself smug. 

"I wish. I'd love to see Lily punch him again, but no, that's more of an, "I'm proud of someone else's work," sort of smug, you know? I didn't do it, but I wish I did? That sort of thing. It wasn't him." 

They all gaze at the Gryffindor Table a little longer, where Lily is engaged in conversation with her Housemates, who keep sending derisive looks at the Slytherin Table, and Potter who seems to be talking at her and gesturing at the Slytherins. 

"Whatever. We'll find out eventually. For now, I can't really say that I care much about what she thinks." 

People keep whispering about Sirius for the entire day. He's sick of it during Herbology, sick of it during Potions, sick of it during Defence--which is quickly shaping up to be one of his favourite subjects, right next to Transfiguration--and he's sick about it after dinner when he's in the Library with Lily--who he apologised to on his mother's behalf--as well as Severus and Evan. He considers stabbing himself with his quill when Lucius Malfoy comes up to them and pieces of the puzzle start falling into place. 

"A word, if you don't mind?" he begins.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Severus asks and Sirius winces. Merlin, but Severus can be abrasive, sometimes. Sirius doesn't think he's seen him be nice to anyone besides Lily, Evan and Sirius himself. And Madam Pomfrey. The other teachers get respect, but it's either grudging or only perfunctory. Which is fair, he supposes, because the teachers aren't particularly nice to Severus either. Or to Slytherins in general. 

"I've come to talk to Sirius, not that it's any concern of _yours._ " Lucius looks down at the quartet of First Years, and as he'd said, turns his attention directly on Sirius. "I'd hoped that you'd realise your mistake after that Howler this morning." 

"So, you're the one that sent the letter?" Sirius asks, and the utterly disinterested attitude from this morning is back with a vengeance. 

"Of course. We can't have the Black name sullied because you aren't smart enough to keep the right sort of... company," he says. "And you, Evan. I thought you knew better than to hang around with Gryffindor Mudbloods and other sorts of..." he trails off, staring at Severus who is decidedly unimpressed. "Unsavoury characters." The welcoming Prefect from the first day is gone. This is a Lucius Malfoy completely concerned with name, reputation and opportunity. This is a Lucius Malfoy that Sirius Black thoroughly dislikes. 

Sirius goes to say something, but he's interrupted. 

"I don't think I heard you quite clearly. Could you kindly repeat that?" Severus asks, and damn. Sirius isn't sure if he wants to be proud or hit him over the head with their History textbook. Lucius Malfoy is not someone you want to make an enemy of, but for Merlin's sake, he needs to be taken down a peg. His word is not law, even if he's gotten most people to think it is. 

Lucius is not someone used to saying anything twice. He's visibly surprised, but then it's taken over by annoyance. "Shall I summarise? Sirius should be smarter than he is, Evan should know better, Miss Evans is quite inferior and thus has no business spending her time with Slytherins, and you..." 

He trails off and doesn't get to pick his sentence back up. Severus leaves his wand on the table, very carefully ties his hair up, taking care to include the bangs that usually end up in his eyes. Then, he stands up and kicks Lucius in the knees. When he doubles over, Severus takes advantage of the sudden loss of height to punch him in the face. Hard. There's less blood than when Lily punched Potter, but Lucius is currently alternating between grabbing his face and his legs and looks to be in serious danger of falling face first into a bookshelf. The entire effect is altogether quite hilarious.

"Really, _Lucius_ ," Severus begins, "You should be smarter than to insult a First Year who doesn't need to use a wand to take you down. You should know better than to verbally attack someone who you don't know very well. You really have no business spending your time with Slytherins if you don't know that and that, I think, actually makes you a lot more inferior than any of us." 

He looks at his knuckles, and then, at his books and his wand before scooping them up with the hand that doesn't have blood on it. "Hospital Wing?" he asks, and Sirius, Lily and Evan gather up their things before stepping over Lucius, who did indeed fall face first into a bookshelf, and leaving the Library. 

"You're insane. Mental. Crazy. Stark raving mad," Sirius says as they make their way up to Hospital Wing which they've been seeing more and more recently as of late. Potter likes to materialise out of thin air and start throwing hexes without warning. He's done exactly that at least once per day since Lily punched him in the face, and now it comes with insults. Oh, Sirius could write a book about the insults, even if it's only the same five words repeated in a different order. Slimy, Dark, Death Eater, Slytherin, git. He crows at Lily, trying to impress her, Sirius suspects, except it isn't working because she's been in detention for hitting him and she is very not pleased. 

"He deserved it," Severus says, as though it was a completely normal, sensible thing to do. 

"Out of your damn mind," Sirius continues, grinning. It was hilarious. 

" _He deserved it,_ " Severus insists. 

"Right up there with Lily's on my list of the greatest things I've ever seen. Where'd you learn how to do that?" 

"I have a lot of experience fighting people who are bigger than me." The statement sends chills down Sirius' spine. He could chalk it up to Severus' already confrontational nature, but something about that just doesn't seem right. 

He keeps glancing around corners, but, surprisingly though, there is no Potter today, and getting to where they need to go doesn't take very long at all. Normally, at some point they'd have had to stop to fend off hexes. When Madam Pomfrey sees them, she shakes her head, already exasperated. 

"And what is it this time?" 

"I punched Lucius Malfoy in the face," Severus informs her before holding out his hand. 

She gapes. That is the only word Sirius can think of to describe the look on her face. "Mr. Snape." 

"Yes, ma'am?" 

"You punched Lucius Malfoy in the face?" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Mr. Snape. Lucius Malfoy is a Seventh Year, a Prefect, and considerably larger than you are. _What_ on Earth could possess you to do such a thing? _How_ did you do such a thing?" 

"I kicked him in the knees and when he bent over, I punched him in the face."

The Mediwitch immediately sobers up, mouth thinning. "Why?" 

"He deserved it." 

"And why did he deserve it?" Madam Pomfrey asks as she heals the split knuckles and cleans his hand. 

"He insulted us. All four of us. Like an idiot. The kick was to make him shorter and for his stupidity, and punching him the face was because he had no right to insult my friends, and because he was just plain wrong." 

"My word." She sighs. "Am I to expect Mr. Malfoy here later?" 

"I hit him pretty hard, but I think he's just going to get Narcissa to deal with it." 

"Very well, Mr. Snape. Is there anything at all I can say to stop you and Miss Evans to stop punching people?"

"You can say that you'll try to get other people to stop being idiots."

"Alright, Miss Evans. I can't promise that they'll listen to me, but I will make an effort to say something." 

"Thank you, ma'am." 

The next few days are full of looking over their shoulders, getting into brawls with Potter and waiting for another Howler. Sirius punches Potter in the face and ends up breaking his thumb in process. He's very proud of himself. Madam Pomfrey is not. Severus and Lily both try to show him the proper way while her back is turned. 

Potter seems to double his efforts when Lily is around, and triple them when Severus is on his own. It's genuinely exhausting. Severus is also very, very hypervigilant and has taken to directly asking the House Elves for coffee. Pissing off Malfoy means sleeping with one eye open, and Potter has made it his business to make Severus' life hell. He starts snapping at everyone indiscriminately, and Potter finds himself on the receiving end of every hex he's ever used all at once, one very memorable Friday morning. 

Sirius is both highly amused and utterly terrified. Severus had run through every single spell he could manage in a minute and a half after Potter cornered him before breakfast, and it'd taken Madam Pomfrey and Professors McGonagall, Evergreen, and Flitwick to put Potter back to rights. Sirius is very glad that when Severus is terrifying, it's usually not directed at him. Unfortunately, Severus has to be terrifying in detention with Filch at seven o' clock every evening until told otherwise. Sirius asks if it's worth it. Severus tells him it is. 

A week after Lucius is punched in the face and was made to walk around with a black eye that Narcissa refused to heal, Sirius gets another letter. One saying that they're glad he has made friends which will be useful to him in future and that his parents are so very proud that he's being a delightfully manipulative little star. There is no mention of Lucius Malfoy's injury or anything about reparations to be made concerning the two families' alliance. Just Walburga gushing and gushing, and a line penned by Regulus at the bottom stating that he is missed, and that's it. No apology either, but he wasn't expecting one. His family doesn't work like that. 

The rest of First Year continues in the same vein, Potter and Pettigrew making themselves a nuisance at every opportunity, Lupin finally grows a backbone and starts earnestly taking part when it's clear that the other two can't hold their own and the other two have clearly started pressuring him. Lily and the Slytherins keep retaliating when they can, even though Potter manages to get away with a hell of a lot. Messages from Grimmauld Place keep coming about what Sirius has and hasn't done, and Sirius' point about seeing the Hospital Wing very, very frequently is proved long before the year is up. 

They sit in the same compartment on the way home, all four of them, and Lily chats away in the background, Evan occasionally deigns to respond, and Severus interjects every few sentences with a sarcastic remark of some kind that causes the other two to burst into laughter. It's different, it's new, and if Walburga has her way, it will become dangerous. Sirius doesn't care.

They've already made promises to write, sworn that they'll find _some_ way to keep in contact, and despite the fact that he's going to face some sort of repercussion when he gets back to Twelve Grimmauld Place, despite the fact that he's sharing a compartment with a Muggle-born who might be a pyromaniac, the Halfblood son of a disgraced and disowned daughter of a respectable Pureblood family and a Rosier scion with persuasion in his blood, he is the happiest he has ever been. 


	3. A Point of No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second Year brought a scheming Narcissa, Sirius and Evan trying out for the Slytherin Quidditch team and the Defence Professor being--you guessed it--a complete and utter waste of time. Third Year brought Regulus, gossip and detention. So many detentions. That's what he gets for defending his little brother, Sirius supposes. Fourth Year was relatively normal, until the dragon showed up and Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn almost got themselves--and the students--killed. Slytherin won the House Cup, though, so there's that. Fifth Year... Fifth Year manages to be worse than all of them combined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to kunoichi, because their comment is the what gave me the kick I needed to continue this. Thanks!

Fifth Year starts like all the other years. Sirius and Severus end up in Hospital Wing before the week is out, and detentions are handed out to them both for use of Dark Magic. Sirius tries to argue that the spells they've been using aren't Dark, but McGonagall just thins her lips, shakes her head and leaves. He rants for the whole evening, grumbling about double standards--"Oh, experiment with your magic, use it as tool for learning. You create a spell, no one recognises it because _it's a spell you just bloody invented_ and it's Dark because it's a slimy Slytherin snake that was using it. Fuckin' hell."

He complains that the Dark Arts aren't evil, that it's _intent_ that counts--"If anybody knows anything about "evil" magic at this school, it'd be me. I've seen it used and _this_ isn't it."

He seethes at the preferential treatment Potter gets, growls at the sympathetic glances they throw at Lupin after one of them gets a jinx in on him in retaliation--"Are you kidding me? It's like they've got the entire staff shoved up their collective--" 

He's cut off by Severus throwing a pillow at him and hissing at him to shut up already, or you'll wake Kettleburn and that is _the_ last thing we need. Evan pops in with homework--a three-foot long essay comparing Transfiguration to Alchemy, two feet exploring the usage of distilled thestral blood in longevity potions--and they gripe together until Madam Pomfrey lets them go. Severus prefers his homework to be the more practical, innovative, possibly illegal sort, and Sirius would prefer to not have homework at all. They plot revenge in between doses of whatever Madam Pomfrey uses to counteract the effects of their run-ins with the so-called Marauders and their bullshit and she lectures them about retaliating when James Potter and friends end up in the Hospital Wing days after. Yeah, it starts like a normal year but Lily's been making herself scarce, hanging out with her Gryffindor friends and Sirius isn't sure, but it definitely seems like the other Slytherins have been pushing their nonsense harder than ever now that they've noticed the rift. 

Nearly every sentence has the word Mudblood in it; they throw it around like they're the Chasers on Gryffindor Quidditch team--physically unable to keep the Quaffle to themselves long enough to do anything useful with it. Evan holds his tongue, but Sirius can't be certain how long he's going to keep it up. It goes on, day in and day out and Sirius has never been more fed up in his life. He stalks the hallways, always looking over his shoulder, always ready for a fight. He considers hexing Potter on the spot when the prick starts going in on his family _again_ , but he's already got detentions for the next three weeks and he really doesn't need another. 

His birthday comes around, and it's nice enough, despite everything. Regulus hands over the highest quality broom polish he could find, and tells him he'll get the broom later. Lily presents him with socks that are charmed to make his steps silent and Evan gives him a piece of parchment that says, "One free favour! I'll do your dirty work, no questions asked, nothing required in return!" At dinner, Potter, Pettigrew and Lupin take bites of their food and Sirius watches in amazement as they sprout feathers. Feathers, that catch fire and relight themselves every time they're put out--like trick candles. Potter opens his mouth, and the squawk that comes is followed by a burst of flame and Sirius can hardly contain himself. "Order of the Phoenix, my left tit," he scoffs. Served them right for acting all high and mighty about their little secret society. 

"Happy birthday, you headcase," Severus says, and Sirius grins. Happy birthday, indeed. He spends the rest of dinner grilling Severus over what he did, "It's a potion. Took about two weeks to theorise, experiment and make it work," and how he got it in their _food_ , "Turns out the House Elves don't like them much, either." 

His residual birthday happiness wears off during breakfast the next morning, when it's back to bad attitudes and the other Slytherins' supremacist stupidity. Sirius' bad mood is back, and then it gets worse when they're studying together one night and after Evan asks a question about something that might come on their History OWL, Severus goes to get a book from the Library and never comes back. They don't think much about it, because Severus has a tendency to get sidetracked when he finds something that interests him, but curfew comes and goes and he hasn't even been seen anywhere near the dungeons, let alone their Common Room or the dorms. 

The pair try to go looking for him, but even with Sirius' silencing socks, Mrs. Norris catches them and then Filch is chasing them back to the dorms. Sirius doesn't sleep that night and he winds up skipping class to hunt for his friend. Sprout is going to have something to say about delinquent Slytherins, he thinks, when he realises that Evan is on his heels, but he doesn't care. They split at the staircases, Evan goes up, Sirius goes down and he doesn't notice that Potter and Lupin and Pettigrew don't snarl as he walks past them. He does walk straight into Severus, who seems to be heading to class himself, and he stops right there in the middle of the hallway because Severus looks like _hell_. He wants to point it out, but he doesn't. He's too relieved for that. 

"Oh, there you are," Sirius says, aiming for a light tone. "We were worried something happened." 

"Yeah," Severus says, and that's all the response he gets. No change in expression, just a one-syllable response in a monotone voice and a thousand-yard stare. 

"You sure you're good to go to class?" he hazards to ask. 

"Fine."

"You wanna... tell me what happened, or?" He puts a hand on Severus' shoulder, and despite the motion being clearly telegraphed, Severus still flinches. Sirius grits his teeth and worries. "Uh." Severus has not flinched at anything Sirius has done since the Snapping Leatherbound incident of Third Year. 

Seeing Sirius at a loss for words never fails to amuse Severus, who, in contrast, has no filter, but always has something to say. Now, he just looks at Sirius. There's no sarcastic comment, no nothing, just him standing there, dead on his feet.

Sirius makes a decision, and moves the hand on Severus' to lock their arms and then tugs him along to an and old, empty DADA classroom that's often used by the Ravenclaws for private studying, and by everyone else for... other _private_ activities. No sound comes in or goes out, and when in use, the door can only be opened by the person who closed it. Very handy for not disturbing other classes while teaching teenagers dangerous and distracting spells and also for keeping wayward students where they're supposed to be.

When they're safely inside, Sirius lets go and turns to face his friend. "You are not okay. Why aren't you okay?" 

Severus fidgets, and Sirius is stunned. Severus does not fidget. He's twitchy, and jumpy, and suspicious of everything and paranoid as all fuck, but he doesn't fidget. Half of his free time is spent brewing potions, and when you're brewing potions--especially experimental, volatile ones--fidgeting can get you _killed_. "Can't say," he says, and his voice cracks. 

"Can't say because you're not sure, or you--like, you're not--like, you just can't, even--even if you tried? Or can you, but you're not going to because something bad will happen, because you're not supposed to say?"

"I know, but I--can't say." 

"Did--" Sirius hesitates. He's had enough experience with not being able to say things  he's found one or two ways around it, but uis Legilimency skill is not near good enough for what he wants to try. "Can you show me?" 

"Show you?"

Sirius takes out his wand and gestures at his temple. "Show me. Like, Legilimency." 

"You're awful at Legilimency," Severus says, and though his voice still sounds funny every other word, he seems more like himself. 

"I know, but this is fucking you up and I want to help." 

"I don't... I--okay." 

So, Sirius points his wand, casts the spell and then he's watching James Potter remind his friends of the secret of the Whomping Willow, watching Severus make his way into the tunnel after them, watching the wolf jump at him, claws bared. He feels stripes burning across his abdomen and his wrist  and at the back of his head, he remembers what his mother's books had to say about feeling pain that wasn't yours. He might be doing something wrong. 

He pushes it further back though, buries it completely as he looks at Potter dragging him across the grounds, sees Hagrid catch them halfway, McGonagall at the front steps and then, their strange procession marches solemnly up to Dumbledore's office. He sees Potter beg and try to justify and plead and he sees Dumbledore take fifty points from Gryffindor and award seventy. 

( _"I am taking twenty points for being out after curfew, twenty points for endangering Mr. Lupin's life and ten points for taunting a fellow student. However, I will also award fifty points for saving Mr. Snape's life, and another twenty for the courage you displayed in doing so. Truly well done, my boys. Not a bit of hesitation to help another. You're a credit to your House, gentlemen, especially you, Mr. Potter."_ )

And just the same, he sees him take fifty points from Slytherin, award none and gravely swear Severus to secrecy. 

( _"This is a very delicate situation, Mr. Snape. If this gets out, Mr. Lupin's life will be forfeit. All that he has worked towards down the drain because of a minor practical joke. You don't want that on your conscience, now, do you? No? Very well. Fifty points from Slytherin. I don't think I should have to explain why, you understand, don't you, Mr. Snape? Very good, my boy. Now, as I said, if this were to get out, Mr. Lupin faces execution. As a precaution, I must inform you that if you are to speak of this to anyone, you will face immediate expulsion. That will be all."_ ) 

Professor McGonagall turns her unimpressed stare on Dumbledore, and he does nothing, simply dismisses them all. Silently, she escorts Severus to the Hospital Wing. After that, he is pulled out of the memory, disoriented and struggling to tell two realities apart, before he collapses. 

"You're shit at Legilimency," one of the Severuses tells him, and he isn't sure if it's the one he'd just pulled into a classroom or the one who is a memory and therefore, isn't a physical entity at all. Can't figure out what tells one Severus apart from another, as both seem like apparitions to him, exhausted and sparkless and nearly translucent when he puts them against the Severus he'd been bickering with over Goblin Wars just the evening before. "You're supposed to keep your mind separate, otherwise you'll fuck _both_ our heads up." 

"No, really?" he asks, and the sarcasm in that sentence is almost too much to bear, but the Severuses glare at him and everything is right with the world, just for that one moment. 

"Do you listen to a thing Narcissa tells you? Honestly," they continue, and really, Sirius is aware that he's not good at this shit, no one needs to tell him, for Merlin's sake, but if he needs to sit here and let a Severus or two nitpick at his Legilimency skills in order to get his friend back, then that's what he'll do. The lecture drones on even when the Severuses are back to being one singular Severus, all unimpressed gangle and spidery tetch and perpetual hypervigilance. 

It'd be easy to not like Severus, Sirius thinks, listening to the other boy talk. He's contrary by nature and even after being beat down, having had his own uninportance stressed at him--because they hurt him and not one of them was punished, not _one_ and that says something to Sirius--still he goes on and on about the theory behind the Mind Magicks--never mind that his voice cracks on every other word--as though Sirius gives a fuck. And, damn, if that isn't the most bloody irritating thing in the world. 

Severus is precocious, and he's annoying and he's mean and he talks back. And despite the fact that in Sirius' opinion, he's one of the most Slytherin Slytherins to ever Slytherin, Severus has no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. If Sirius had played his cards just a tad different, if he'd thrown caution to the wind and gotten Sorted Gryffindor, Sirius wouldn't have liked Severus at all. But that's a different universe, one thousands of choices away, where Sirius leapt before he looked and didn't bother to get to know the prickly Slytherin who was the heads to Sirius' tails, the other side of Sirius' coin.  
  
That universe doesn't matter, he decides. This universe is the one he's in and this universe is the one where he _likes_ Severus and he's willing to suffer a thousand lectures and hex a thousand Potters if it means he gets his friend back. This is the universe where Sirius Black swears once and for all that men like Albus Dumbledore and James Potter no longer get to hold all the power. 

"You aren't even listening to me, are you?" Severus asks him, resigned. 

"Heard the important bits," Sirius tells him cheerfully, shoving his thoughts into the compartment of his mind reserved for things that are likely to get him into trouble. 

"And those are?" Severus quirks an eyebrow. 

"I'm shit at Legilimency, I should pay more attention to you and Cissy and Dumbledore's a cock. Okay, well, actually, that last part was all me but I'm right so it's fine." 

Severus rolls his eyes at him, and the world starts to turn again. "I was saying that we shouldn't bother with revenge this time around. As a precaution," he adds, when he notices Sirius' Look. "Don't look at me like that, yes, Potter saved me--and isn't that just fuckin' wonderful--but the fact that their little secret is out just means they'll want my head more than ever. Besides, we've got our OWLs coming up and I'm supposed to be helping you learn the entire History syllabus, so we're fucking off until further notice, yeah?" 

"Fine," Sirius says, and rolls his eyes right back. 

They bump into Evan as they leave, deciding to go straight back to the dorms since Herbology will be over in literal seconds and they don't want to chance running into Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew on their way to the Hall for lunch. Severus is even more paranoid than usual as they head to the dorms and Sirius can't even blame him. They'd nearly killed him. In that other universe, Severus would have had to deal with this all on his own, because Merlin knows he wouldn't have been able to tell Lily, and Sirius dreads to think of Severus being bitter and listless for the rest of his life. He chooses to drape his arm over Severus' shoulders rather than sling it, and is pleased when the flinch is barely there and he relaxes a moment after. 

Sirius' eyes meet Evan's, and the strawberry blond mouths, ' _What happened?'_ at him. ' _Tell you later_ ,' he mouths back with a vindictive little smirk. Dumbledore hadn't sworn _him_ to secrecy. 

Sirius does tell Evan about it, while Severus collapses on the bed nearest to the doors and passes out immediately. Predictably, he's pissed, and Sirius then has to inform him, quite sadly, that they're holding off on the revenge plot. 

"You know," Evan says over roast beef sandwiches an elf brought up from the kitchens, "I think now would be a good time to start considering those offers." 

Sirius isn't stupid. He's not necessarily academically inclined, but he's still clever in his own right, and therefore, not stupid. He knows exactly what Evan is talking about. He casts a sharp glance over to where Severus is still asleep on Evan's bed, and only turns his gaze back when he doesn't stir. "I don't like it," he says, and it's true. He doesn't. He hates the thought of sharing space with the likes of Bellatrix and his parents. He hates their ideals and convictions and false graces. 

Evan leans back and tilts his head to look at the ceiling. He rakes a hand through his hair and sighs. "I know. I know. You lot've got me convinced that Pureblood elitism is utter shite, but Sirius, they're _doing something_ about people like Potter. And they're taking care of people like us." 

"We'd be miserable," Sirius tells him, despite the fact that his mind can't help that it wants that feeling of invincibility that comes with a family willing to bury anything to keep its--relatively--good name. If he did what they wanted, they'd lay off and he'd be free to do what he wanted. 

"We'd be safe," Evan counters. "Think about it. Power, protection, safety, just for spouting the same bullshit we've been taught our entire lives." 

His eyes flick over to the bed where Severus grumbles quietly, tosses and turns for a bit and then settles. "He's a Halfblood." 

"He's brilliant. Besides, your mother would love to have somebody else to force her lessons on." 

 _It's all about patience, Siri_ , she whispers in his head. If he agrees, plays along, keeps quiet, things'll be easier in the long run. For everybody. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, okay." 

Come Christmas, they meet a man at the Malfoy's annual ball. Lord Voldemort, he introduces himself, charismatic and entertaining and agreeable. He reeks of politics and seems quite taken with the three of them, which Sirius' mother sees a compliment. She actually takes time away from simmering and pandering and subtly threatening to tell him about it. Severus is still a Halfblood, but he's a Halfblood who can brew circles around the most talented of Masters and knows enough of the Dark Arts that Walburga manages to get more than one good discussion out of him and graciously ignores his blood status as a result. Lord Voldemort catches them with Narcissa and Lucius, tells them he'll Mark them as soon as they've turned seventeen. They leave with an agreement and the esteem of a Dark Lord. 

Time alternates between moving in fast forward and so slowly that the clocks run backwards until it's time for their OWLs and everything comes to a head. They write DADA and Sirius kicks himself so that he won't make a snarky comment when the so-called "Marauders" pass by, joking about Lupin and werewolves and a question. Lupin stops, though, hangs behind a minute to talk to Sirius, and he's so busy being suspicious that he misses the little smirk Potter sends over his shoulder. Evan stops to wait for him, but Severus says something about meeting up with Lily to study and goes out to the courtyard instead. Lupin hems and haws around, hesitates and shuffles until Sirius puts him out of his misery and excuses them from the conversation. Curiously enough, Lupin follows them all the way down to the Courtyard--still dithering--and just before they actually make it out the doors, he stops in front of them and he _apologises_ , though it's barely loud enough for them to hear over the racket coming from outside.

"I'm--really sorry," he says.

"I'm not the one you should be apologising to," Sirius informs him distractedly.

"I know, but still, I'm--for _this_ , I'm--sorry."

That gets his attention. He turns to Lupin who stands there, picking at his sleeves, head down, seemingly genuinely apologetic and staring morosely at his Prefect badge. "And what, exactly, is it that you're sorry for?"

Lupin winces.

"What did you fucks  _do_?" Sirius growls, and despite every bone in his body screaming that he should be outside, he stands his ground and pins Lupin with a glare. Lupin cringes further, and Sirius takes petty enjoyment in the fact that he can practically see his ears flatten against his head as he cowers.

"Speak up, little one, or I'll see to it you don't speak ever again," Evan threatens.

What little colour there is drains from Lupin's face as the shout rings out, "I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Sirius' blood runs cold in his veins and he shoves Lupin aside so he can see what just what the _fuck_ is going on.  Except Lupin doesn't budge and Sirius is shocked for a moment before he remembers that Lupin is a werewolf and werewolves are _strong_. So, he slips around Lupin as best as he can and jabs a knee into the space behind his, causing Lupin's legs to buckle. Lupin grabs onto him as he falls and Sirius doesn't keel over, but it's a near thing. He staggers a bit before Evan wrenches his arm out of Lupin's grip and two of them make their way out the doors just barely in time to see Lily storm away and Severus hanging upside down in midair. 

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" Potter asks, the _prick_ , and Sirius forgets himself. He grits his teeth hard enough to break if he ground just that bit harder and somehow, someway he manages to push through the crowd and unlock his jaw enough to force out the hex and watch _Impedimenta_ go to work on the bastard's irritating fucking joints. A jinx whizzes past his ear and fuck, he'd forgotten about Pettigrew. His toenails burst through his shoes not two seconds later, though, and Sirius mentally thanks Evan as they knock Pettigrew flat on his arse. They curve enough to keep him there and Sirius wonders for a minute if Severus had tweaked it since the first time he showed them the spell, until he realises that Potter is back on his feet. Ignoring the fact that the other boy already has his wand in his hand, Sirius hits him with a _Petrificus Totalus_ and is grimly satisfied when he topples to the ground like a slab of marble. He walks over to where Severus is awkwardly cradling his arm and looking dazed, and collects his things before manhandling him to his feet as gently as he can. 

Severus elbows him with the arm that's relatively uninjured, and hisses, "Fuck off, I don't need your help!" 

"Do I give a fuck?" Sirius asks him, and then, "You're getting it anyway, you annoying shit, so shut up and let me!" 

"No, fuck you!" Severus tells him and slithers out of his grip in such a way that Sirius is forced to let him go so that he doesn't jostle the probably--most likely--broken left arm. 

"Where do you think you're going? I know I've called you crazy before but you don't have to prove me right, you know! Your hand's fucked up and I know you hit your head, so it better be the Hospital Wing!" 

"I'm going to Gryffindor Tower so I can apologise to Lily!" 

"You can apologise after you go to the Hospital Wing!" 

"I can apologise _now_!" 

Sirius grits his teeth again. _Stupid, stubborn, self-destructive fucking Severus_. Fuck. "Okay, fine, fuck's sake. How about we go to the Hospital Wing and while _you're_ getting sorted out, _I'll_ find Lily and bring her up so you can apologise?" 

Severus glares at him. "How about no?" 

"Fuck that, we're doing this my way," Sirius growls and with that, he juggles their things into one hand and yanks Severus along behind him. 

Severus curses a blue streak all the way up the Hospital Wing. Sirius is vaguely impressed by the time he realises Severus has called him a bitch in English, Latin _and_ French. "Pardon me, Madam Pomfrey," Sirius says, "but I need you to not let him go anywhere until I come back," while Severus starts, "Excuse me, Madam Pomfrey but I really can't stay long, there's something I need to do." 

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Severus tells her. 

"His arm's broken and I'm pretty sure he hit his head," Sirius says. Severus gives him a Look that makes it obvious he's calling Sirius a traitor in his head, but he ignores it. Desperate times, desperate measures and all that. He takes the opportunity to escape while Madam Pomfrey sets to work examining Severus. Next stop, Gryffindor Tower. 

The looks he receives the closer he gets to the Tower are laughable. If they could kill, he'd be dead, but they can't, so joke's on them. He passes Frank Longbottom on the way up and nods--the Keeper is one of the few decent Gryffindors Sirius knows.

He makes it to the portrait entrance, says, "Good day, Lady Portia," and is unsurprised when she starts at being addressed by name. The wall above the fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room is absolutely covered in them and they tend to get rather annoyed if they aren't properly acknowledged. Everyone learns quickly to take note of names--Slytherin or otherwise--if you want to get any kind of help from the portraits. 

"Why, hello, dear," she says, "Oh my, I can't say I recall the last time anyone's called me anything but the Fat Lady. It's nice to hear my name again."

"No trouble at all, ma'am," Sirius says, with a roguish little grin. "I can't think how they'd forget it. It's quite a lovely name, if I do say so myself." He adds a wink at the end for good measure. 

"Goodness, me!" she titters. "Well, aren't you a charming thing? Whichever lucky witch you've come to see will be sure to swoon before she's even got to the doors!" 

"We'll see about that, m'Lady," Sirius tells her, ignoring the disgusted look he gets from Marlene McKinnon and taking note of the appraising one from Dorcas Meadows as they walk past. "I came to see Lily Evans, and if you could let her know that I won't be leaving 'til we've spoken, that'd be lovely." 

"Oh, oh, of course, dear. Just a minute." She strolls out of her frame for a sort while, and when she returns, she gives him a cheerful smile and the portrait swings aside for Lily to walk out. 

"What do you _want_ , Sirius?" she asks, cutting straight to the chase, and he's mildly offended, but then again, he can see where she's coming from. 

"What, no hi?" 

"No. What do you want?" 

"I need you to come with me so Severus can apologise." 

"So, what, he can't do it himself?" She scoffs. "Tell him he can forget about it." 

"No, he can, just not here. Y'know, he cursed me out the whole way up the steps to the Hospital Wing? Which I had physically drag him to, by the way--because he was so desperate to apologise that he was going to come all the way up to the Lions' Den with a broken arm and a possible concussion and I didn't want to let him." 

"Tell him to save his breath," she says and turns to go back into the portrait. 

"You're not even going to hear him out?" Sirius asks, feeling his eyebrows raise. 

"Why should I? I've heard you all talk, you call everyone of my birth Mudblood--" 

"And it's just that! _Talk_! Fuck's sake, we share a dorm with _Mulciber_ \--" 

"And all that Dark Magic--" 

"He'd hex us in our _sleep_ if he thought--and not to mention what my _parents_ would do if they found out--" 

"God, Potter and Mary were right about you lot!" she exclaims and Sirius can see her regret the words as soon as they leave her mouth. 

"I see how it is," Sirius mutters before he can stop himself. "Their word over the Dark, slimy, Slytherin, Death Eater gits', right? I'd have though that actual _years_ of friendship would have been worth more than that but I guess not. Especially since you don't even _like_ Potter, but wait, no, don't tell me, I'm wrong there too, aren't I?" He bites out sarcastically. 

She doesn't respond. The gears begin to turn and damn it, Sirius really hopes he's wrong. He doesn't want to be right. 

"Tell me I'm wrong." She won't look at him. "Lils, come on. Please, tell me I'm wrong." 

"You're wrong," she says, but she still won't look at him. "You're wrong. We're done here. And I'm not going to the Hospital Wing." 

"Lily, you can't be serious!" 

"You heard what he called me!" 

"And you heard what Potter and his minions were calling him! Can you blame him for slipping?" 

"I have _every_ right--" 

"You do. You do, I'm not saying you don't. It's just--Lils, please." 

She shakes her head. "If he wants to apologise, he can come here and grovel for all I care. I'm telling you, I don't want to hear it." 

"Lily--" 

"I don't want to hear it!" she snaps, and then, she's retreating into the Gryffindor Common Room. 

The portrait swings shut and Lady Portia hesitates a touch. "All right, dear?" 

"Not at all," Sirius tells her, "but you needn't worry about me." 

"Nonsense!" she says, and the cheer is contagious. Sirius almost smiles. Her grin dims to a comforting smile. "She'll come around, darling."

"I hope so," Sirius tells her, but he knows how stubborn Lily can be, how easy it is for her to hold a grudge, even without the likes of Potter whispering in her ear. "Thank you very much. You're a gem," Sirius tells her, and he does smile this time. 

"You're quite welcome, dear. Come again!" 

Sirius goes through all five stages of grief on his way back to the Hospital Wing. He refuses to believe it, rants under his breath, considers going back to try again, starts morosely dragging his feet near the tapestry of Madeira the Mad and by the time he's actually made it to the Hospital Wing, he's mostly just thinking about how, exactly, he's supposed to break the news to Severus. 

"Well?" Severus asks him, and Sirius thinks about Lily flame bright with anger, her words cold as ice. 

"She needs time to cool off. She said you can come up tomorrow," he says, and it's true. It is. He almost wishes it wasn't. 

He definitely wishes it wasn't the next evening when Severus stalks into their dorm room seeming as struck as he had been after the capital P-Prank and practically trips onto the end of Sirius' bed. He just barely snags the first two feet of his Defence essay out of the way. "How'd the apology go?" he asks, and winces. Oh, wow, so very subtle, o Slytherin Black scion. 

"S'e wo'vn't h'r 't," Severus mumbles into the bedsheets. 

"What?"

Severus lifts his head just barely enough to bitterly grind out the words. "She wouldn't hear it."

"Oh." 

"Mmph." 

"That sucks." 

"Hm." 

"...You wanna make fun of my shitty research and help me with my Defence essay?" 

"...Nm." 

"I'll read out loud and you'll tell me what sounds off?" 

"Mm." 

"Alright, so, the Patronus Charm, which uses the incantation _Expecto Patronum_ , is the only known defence against Dementors and Lethifolds..." 

The next few days have Sirius on edge. Severus is nerve-racking enough to be friends with when he _isn't_ liable to accidentally hit Sirius with whatever new spell he's created, and now, he's mopey and distracted and vacant and it's ten times worse. So, during lunch, when Severus has an extra Alchemy class--class is used very generously, there are only six students and only three of them are passing--where they're supposed to be turning Kingsley's gold teeth back to normal, Sirius writes a letter home. During dinner, an eagle owl drops a stack of books in his lap, steals a chunk of his sausage and pecks him for good measure. 

"Right," he says, dropping the books onto Severus' bed when they get back to the dorm. "You're driving me insane." 

Severus looks at him incredulously. Evan snorts. 

"You are," Sirius insists. "So, all of these books are currently being used as supplementary texts by nearly every institution offering a Mastery in Potions. Please, for fuck's sake, read them and stop driving me insane." 

"Wh--" 

"Just read the fuckin' books," Sirius tells him. 

Severus does indeed read the books. Gradually, he settles back into his own skin, brewing and researching and inventing in his spare time. The day they're set to go home, Severus tells him, "These are brilliant, but Slughorn doesn't keep most of these ingredients stocked." 

Sirius shrugs. "Maybe they're from some far away place and don't store well." 

"Not really, some of them--a good few, actually--grow in the Forest. Like the Cizae's Pearl. It's right there. The only issue would be the creatures, and I imagine any capable witch or wizard would be able to handle them. Or avoid them." 

Evan scoffs, "You'd have to be part--or completely--creature to avoid anything in there," as though they hadn't gone ingredient hunting in the Forest before. Granted, it hadn't been any of these particular ingredients and they _had_ stayed relatively close to the border and listened when the centaurs told them to fuck off, but, well. 

Severus makes a quiet noise of agreement and they sit in silence until Sirius sits up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. "Animaguses! I!" 

"Bless you," Severus tells him, eyes still trained on his book. 

"No! _We should become Animagi_. That way we could collect the ingredients without fearing for our lives!" 

" _That's_ insane." 

"Think about it!" Sirius exclaims. "It would be so useful!"

"It _could_ come in handy," Evan murmurs. 

It's quiet for a moment. "Fine," Severus mutters, and that's that. 

Lily doesn't slip into their compartment on the train ride home. Sirius sees her pass by with a pack of Gryffindor girls, who've already got their own compartment sorted out. Sirius stares out the window as the train starts to move and dreams of running in the Forest when he falls asleep. 


End file.
